


Hurt

by Spooky66



Series: Songfics [4]
Category: The X-Files
Genre: Angst, Cancer Arc, F/M, Mentions of Suicide, Sad, sorry for this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-21
Updated: 2016-10-21
Packaged: 2018-08-23 18:07:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8337562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spooky66/pseuds/Spooky66
Summary: A song fic that takes place in the cancer arc based off the song Hurt by Johnny Cash (aka the saddest song ever).Beware there is death, mentions of suicide, and general sadness.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: The X Files are not mine

_I hurt myself today_  
_To see if I still feel_  
_I focus on the pain_  
_The only thing that's real_

* * *

  
I watched from afar because I didn't think I belonged. Her mother was inconsolable as she clung to her son's, her only remaining children. Bill stood straight with one arm around his mother and the other around his wife. I’d only just met Charlie a few weeks before. He was a smaller man than Bill and his shoulders were slumped forward as he cried silently.  
I closed my eyes and dug my nails into my palm to block out their pain as the Priest read from Ecclesiastes.  
During the last week of her life she'd held my hand and begged me not to blame myself. She told me all of the things that were in her heart, all of the things she'd never said. I lay on the bed with her and pulled her close to my chest and she cried and told me she was scared.  
She was the strongest person I knew but then she looked so tiny and helpless.  
She'd been my strength; she'd been the one to hold me together and as I watched her fade and break apart I had no idea what to do.  
She told me that I was the great love of her life and she thanked me for that. It made me sick.  
I wanted to run but I knew that if I did I'd regret it forever.  
Before she got too weak she'd taken me to her bed.  
The first time had been desperate and sad, the second tender, and the third passionate and angry. I'd hold her thin naked body as she slept and I'd cry myself to sleep. Sometimes I think she faked sleep while I sobbed.

* * *

  
_The needle tears a hole_  
_The old familiar sting_  
_Try to kill it all away_  
_But I remember everything_

* * *

 

After the crowd cleared I went to the graveside alone. The caretaker walked away to give me a moment.  
I had to fight the urge to throw myself onto the coffin and let my body be lowered in with hers but I held back.  
My knees buckled and I fell forward. My fists dug into the graveside dirt and I yelled at God, not caring who heard.  
On her last day I'd begged Him to take me instead. By that time she was unconscious. Her cheeks sunken in and the lips that used to occupy my thoughts now we're chapped and pale.  
Bill attacked me when they pronounced her dead. I stood there and let him shake me wishing that he would draw blood. His mother yelled at him thorough her tears as Charlie and an attendant pulled him of me.  
Maggie would not look at me for a while and part of me wished that she would also lash out at me. Instead she stood silently and hugged me. I broke down for the first time then. It felt like the grief was trying to pull me through the floor so I held onto her for dear life.

* * *

_What have I become_  
_My sweetest friend_  
_Everyone I know goes away_  
_In the end_  
_And you could have it all_  
_My empire of dirt_  
_I will let you down_  
_I will make you hurt_

* * *

Maggie wanted me at the funeral but I wanted Bill to be able to mourn his sister in peace instead of being forced to stand next to her killer.  
After I left the grave I had no idea where to go. The though of going to my apartment made me want die. Dying sounded so appealing but I'd promised her that I wouldn't kill myself.  
She'd known me so well.  
I'd let her down so much in life; I couldn't bear to break my last promise to her.  
I went to her apartment. It was empty as it had been for a couple weeks. Despite this her bed still smelled like her. I lay there awake for hours as I held her pillow to my face and talked to her praying that she could hear me.  
I woke up to someone gently saying my name.  
When I opened my eyes I saw Maggie perched on the other side of the bed. She was holding a small journal in her hands.

* * *

_I wear this crown of thorns_  
_Upon my liar's chair_  
_Full of broken thoughts_  
_I cannot repair_  
_Beneath the stains of time_  
_The feelings disappear_  
_You are someone else_  
_I am still right here_

* * *

"She gave this to me before..." and shook her head trying to fight off the demons, "it's for you. She wrote each of us a note but this is yours Fox."  
There was no condemnation in her voice, just sadness.  
I took the book from her hands and looked at the plain blue cover.  
"How did you know I was here?" I finally asked.  
She looked away and simply shrugged her shoulders. I was torn, part of me wanted to rip it open and devour ever word but the other part of me wanted to burn it.  
I knew it would be filled with kind words of love and friendship that I didn't deserve.  
"Fox... I know- I know you blame yourself for this. I know Bill does too but she didn't." she took my hand, "She stayed alive so long for you. When you were not there she asked for you. Even her last words were for you."

* * *

_What have I become_  
_My sweetest friend_  
_Everyone I know goes away_  
_In the end_  
_And you could have it all_  
_My empire of dirt_  
_I will let you down_  
_I will make you hurt If_  
_I could start again_  
_A million miles away_  
_I would keep myself_  
_I would find a way_

* * *

last words had been for me. As she faded into unconsciousness she'd put her hand to my cheek and told me to not give up.  
Pain ripped through me at the memory and I shut my eyes in an attempt to banish it.  
Maggie got up, "Charlie drove me and is waiting." She turned to me again, "Please don't let this take you down. That is not how you honor her."  
I watched her leave before I opened the journal to read the last words that Dana Scully world ever speak to me. I silently prayed to her, my patron saint, for the strength I would need to read it and began.  
  



End file.
